Tis Better to Dare
by MelodyPond77
Summary: "Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat." Theodore Roosevelt A collection of drabbles written for the Truth or Dare Game on QL.
1. It Can't Be Real

**So over in the Quidditch League, we started a beautiful little game of Truth or Dare, HP FFN style. The truths are, obviously, truths, but the dares are drabbles. I actually quite like some of mine, so I'm sharing them with you guys. They all vary in length and prompt. Enjoy! **

**Dare: **Write about Ron catching Draco and Hermione together.

* * *

Ron glanced down at the watch on his wrist. 23:42. _Ugh, _he thought. _Potions still isn't done. Where's Hermione when you need her?_

_She's doing the Prefect duties so that _you _don't have to. _His conscience reproachfully reminded him. His conscience reminded him of Hermione...

Well, it was obvious he wasn't going to be doing his homework anytime soon. Hermione wasn't here, Harry was in detention with Umbridge... Ron was too _lonely _to do homework. Besides, he was hungry again.

Ron decided to take a midnight trip down to the kitchens. Sneaking out of the portrait hole, much to the disgust of the Fat Lady, he tiptoed down towards the kitchens.

He was enjoying his pleasant walk when he heard a quiet _meow! _and turned to find Mrs. Norris watching him.

_Shit! _he thought, looking around wildly for a hiding spot. He noticed the one-eyed witch and, recognizing it as an entrance to a secret passageway, ducked inside.

Sighing in relief, he smiled, thinking he was alone until he heard muffled swearing and scuffling from further down the passageway.

Pulling his wand out, he tiptoed quietly around the corner, muttering _lumos _as he rounded it.

The first thing he noticed was that both the boy and the girl were shirtless, though luckily she still had her bra on.

The second thing his brain processed was that the girl had brown, bushy hair and was staring at him in complete shock, an expression she usually only reserved for moments when he was being particularly dumb.

The third thing his brain processed was the blonde hair of the boy leaning nonchalantly against the wall, arm still curled loosely around Hermione's waist and ferrety face looking especially annoyed with the interruption.

"Ron-I- What-?" Hermione squeaked, quickly picking her shirt up and using it to cover herself.

Ron just stared in shock for a moment, then turned beet red.

"Malfoy?! Really, Hermione? _Malfoy?! _I'm disgusted." He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Maybe if I close my eyes I'll realize I'm dreaming and it's not real. It's not real."

"Piss off, Weasel. It's real, so get used to it," Malfoy drawled, bored already.

"Lalalalalalalala no no no no it isn't real!" Ron yelled, and promptly ran from the room.

Some things he just couldn't take, especially not on an empty stomach.


	2. Sometimes Fathers are Wrong

**DARE**: Write a romantic Scorpius/Rose. Given to me by isaacwolfsbane

* * *

Scorpius slumped in his chair, dreading the letter he was going to have to write home. He had been sorted into _Gryffindor. _Oh, Merlin, his parents would be disappointed. More so his mum, but his dad was secretly hoping his son would be a Slytherin, too; Scorpius just _knew._

"Hi!" A chirpy voice addressed him, and he felt himself squeezed between two warm bodies. Glancing first to his right, then to his left, he found himself sandwiched between an auburn haired girl and raven haired boy.

Oh. Of course. The Potter-Weasley clan would _all _be in Gryffindor. Oh joy.

"Hi.." he said, unsure of how he was to respond. His father had told him to be polite to everyone, to not judge, and to not trust any of the Potter-Weasleys. He wasn't sure what his father would've wanted him to do in this situation. So he decided to introduce himself. That was polite, right?

"I'm Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy," he added. The girl laughed.

"We know who you are. It's why we're over here," she said, smiling. The boy was grinning, too.

"Wait... I've never met you. How do you know me? I know you because you're famous, but my family's been lying low ever since the war. You shouldn't know who I am," he said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Uncle Ron pointed you out to us at the platform," Albus started.

"Yea, he told me to beat you at everything and not to be friends with you," Rose added, completely nonchalant.

Now Scorpius was _really _confused. "Um...If you aren't allowed to be friends with me... Why are you here?"

Rose grinned. "Just because I'm not allowed, doesn't mean I'm actually going to _listen _to my dad. He isn't always right, and I think it's time I made some decisions for myself. For instance, I need to decide who my friends are. So I've got a proposition for you: would you like to be our best friend?"

Scorpius sat, thinking it over. He admired his frankness. And... Well, she made a fair point. His father was wary of the Potter-Weasleys because of all the animosity between him and Harry, but that should have no affect on Scorpius' relationship with the family. He wasn't his father.

Grinning, he shook the hand Rose had offered. "Gladly," he said.

* * *

Seven years had passed since that fateful day, and now Scorpius found himself Head Boy, with none other than Rose Weasley as his Head Girl. While Rose had disobeyed Ron Weasley on the friend's point, she had taken it into her stubborn mind to beat him at everything she could. Thus the races had begun, and it had ended with the two of them at the top of their class as Head Boy and Head Girl.

He was lounging on his bed, thinking of Rose, as usual, when the devil herself entered their common room downstairs and stomped up the stairs to her dorm, slamming the door after her.

_Oh no, _Scorpius thought. _This can't be good. _He exited his own room and walked down the hall towards hers. He knocked on the door (the wards wouldn't let him any farther than her door without her permission) and waited.

"Go away, Scorpius!" He heard her cry. Her words were broken with tears.

"You know I can't do that. You're crying. What's wrong, love?" He called back.

She opened the door, revealing her tearful face. "My father just wrote to me. He was very angry about the fact that you're the other Head. He said that if anything happened he would ground me for the entire summer and never let me see you again!" She broke into a fresh wave of tears.

"Hey, hey, Rose. It's ok. Remember what you told me in first year? You said you're dad isn't always right. It's your life; you decide what happens. 'Sides, you're seventeen, he really can't do anything to you. If he tries locking you up, Al and I will come break you out. You can stay with me; my parents love you," he said, grinning. He could already imagine that already. The perfect life: Rose and him wandering the grounds of Malfoy Manor, just being together...

Well, he would be able to see it if he actually worked up the courage to ask her out.

She stopped crying, and now she looked at him with a new look in her eye, one that he'd only seen right before she did something completely stupid.

"You're right, Scor," she said. "It's time to make some decisions by myself."

His next question-_What do you mean?-_ was trapped between their lips as Rose stood on her tiptoes and kissed him for all he was worth.


	3. Let's Get Married

**DARE: **(Okay, this is a mean one) Write about Dumbledore proposing to McGonagall. Given to me by Cupcakeyyy

* * *

It was October 31, Halloween and, more importantly, the anniversary of Gellart Grindlewald's downfall. Albus was supposed to be patrolling the corridors that night with Minerva, but she knew he would have preferred to be alone. She understood pining for a love now lost, and she had also figured out exactly what Gellart had meant to Albus.

So she allowed him to patrol alone. What she didn't realize, though, was that October 31, Halloween and the anniversary of Gellart Grindlewald's downfall, was the one day a year Albus Dumbledore allowed himself to drink.

And drink.

And drink.

When she finally found him outside of the Room of Requirement, slumped on the floor and completely dazed, Minerva had tutted. "Oh, Albus, look at you. Come along now, dear," she had said, picking him up and helping him stand.

"Minerva, we should get married," was all he said in response.

Minerva stopped, her face turning red with the effort it took not to laugh. "Married? Us? Albus, you're gay."

Albus stopped, thought, and then remembered. "Oh, right, I guess I am. Gay people marry women, right?"

Minerva burst into laughter despite herself. "Oh, Albus, I wish I had a camera. I'm so glad you won't remember this in the morning."

She led him back to his quarters, fending off marriage proposals all the way.


	4. Swimming

**Dare: **Write about Ginny learning to swim. Presented by D-Savano

* * *

All 9 of the Weasleys were at the lake shore, laughing and playing with glee. Little one-year old Ginny tottered around on her unsteady feet, attempting to keep up with her older brothers as they all ran and played by the water.

"C'mon, Gin! Let's do something fun, huh?" Bill said, picking the little girl up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned. "I like fun! I go in water?" she asked as he started carrying her into the water.

"We're going to learn how to swim, Ginny! You and Ron both." Soon Ginny felt herself being lowered into the water, and she clung to Bill tighter. But then he let go.

All of a sudden, Ginny found herself floating in the water, paddling her arms to keep her head up. She watched as her brother moved his arms in a weird way, and she mimicked him, becoming slightly surprised when they propelled her through the water. "Look Bill!" she cried as she kept moving, swimming on her back, "I is swimming!"


	5. Everybody Talks

**Dare**: Write a drabble that is entirely dialogue. Presented by REDSTER

* * *

"Katie, I have something to tell you."

"What is it Oliver?"

"The last few years have been really great and all, and I... God I don't know how to say this."

"Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?!"

"No! Oh Merlin, no! Please don't cry, Katie!"

"Ow! That hurt! Jesus, Bell, don't slap me."

"OLIVER WOOD YOU EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!"

"Dammit, Katie, I'm not breaking up with you! I'm trying to propose!"

"uh... what?"

"Katie, I want to marry you!"

"...Really?"

"Would I be kneeling here holding a ring if I didn't?"

"Oh. Oh! Yes! Of course, yes, Ollie! YES!"

"You know I love you, right?"

"I love you too, Ollie."

"And I would never-"

"Just kiss me, Wood!"


	6. Clandestine Meetings

**Dare: **Write me a one-shot of a pairing that you can not stand. Presented by Couer de Danse

I chose Drarry. Sorry. Don't like them.

* * *

"Potter. What are you doing here?" I asked, shocked to come face to face with the object of my affections in the corridor outside the Slytherin dungeons.

"Looking for you, Malfoy." He looked uncomfortable.

"And why would _you _ever look for _me?" _I sneered. Appearances must be kept aloft, no matter how much it hurt me to hurt him.

"I heard a rumour." My blood ran cold. Stupid Parkinson!

"And what rumour was that?" He was stepping slowly towards me, and I stood there, frozen, unsure of what he was doing.

"I heard a rumour you had a crush on someone." He was standing in front of me, a question in his eyes that I couldn't understand.

"And? What do you think about my... 'crush'?" I said, attempting to hide my true meaning behind a layer of insolence.

He leaned in closer. "I think it might be reciprocated," he whispered, before slipping a piece of paper into my hand.

"I'll be watching you, Malfoy. Don't think you can get away with this!" He shouted angrily as he walked away, but, turning quickly, he slipped me a sly wink as he stomped past open mouthed Slytherins.

I stood in shock, elation filling my body as I read the piece of paper in my hands. _Astronomy Tower. Midnight._

I had a date.


	7. A Sticky Situation

**Dare: **Write a drabble about James Potter (Next Gen not Marauders) doing a prank.

* * *

James Potter snuck along the corridor, armed with dozens of Gobstones he had charmed to stick to the ceiling. Levitating them, he placed them all over the ceiling of the corridor, then waited for the corridors to fill with students traveling to their next class.

As soon as the corridors were packed, he released the sticking charms and watched as the gobstones fell to the ground, smashing into people's heads and squirting stinking juice over everything.

Shouts of "EWWWW!" and "GROSS!" and "WHAT THE HELL!?" were heard all over the corridor as James stood at the end, laughing. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into the glaring eyes of Minerva McGonagall.

"Nice trick," she said drily. "Have fun cleaning all of it up- _without _magic," she said, and turned him around to drag him to Filch's office, ready to write up his offense.


	8. Friends?

**Dare: **Write a Dramione

Hermione walked into her office at the Ministry and stopped in shock as she notices someone already sitting there. She whipped her wand out, narrowing her eyes. "Who are you? And why are you in my office? How'd you get in here?" she snapped.

"I know we weren't exactly friends at Hogwarts, Granger, but is that really any way to treat a client?" Malfoy drawled as he stood from his seat. "As for who let me in here, Mr. Shacklebolt told me to wait inside. He said he would owl you to alert you of my presence and ask you to come in early, but obviously he did not," the boy said, raising his eyebrows at Hermione's still outstretched wand.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she said crossly, not lowering the wand.

He sighed and shrugged, slumping into the chair again. "I can't believe I'm doing this, but I came here for two things: one, I came to apologize for how I treated you at school. It was extremely rude of me, and I wish I had never done it. In all honestly, you're one of the brightest witches I've ever met, and I was jealous that you were so much better than I was at magic when you hadn't even grown up with it. So... I'm sorry." He paused, and she sank slowly into her seat, shocked at his sincerity.

"And the second thing was?"

"Mr. Shacklebolt said you were the head of the committee to round up old Death Eaters. Well... I want to turn my father in. And myself, if you need me to," he said, gripping the sides of his chair. "I didn't want to be a part of the Dark Lord's-I mean Voldemort, sorry-regime, but he threatened to kill my mum if I didn't. But that's no excuse. I shouldn't have joined up. So, I'm sorry for that, too," he muttered.

"Draco, do you realize what you're doing?" Hermione asked slowly, looking at him with a new light in her eyes.

"Umm... screwing my life over?"

She laughed at that. "No, Draco, you're being... selfless. You're actually being selfless. I'm quite proud of you, actually." She smiled at him, and he smiled back, realizing for the first time how truly beautiful she was.

"Also, Draco, I will need the information about your father, but I can get you a hearing with a few of the heads and we'll determine whether your intentions were correct or not. But I can promise you I will do everything in my power not to have you incarcerated."

He smiled his thanks again, then got up to leave.

"Oh, and Draco?" she called after him.

He turned.

"I do hope this isn't a one time thing. I'm sorry, too, for not trying to get to know you better. I think we would've been good friends, once we'd gotten past the finding each other annoying stage. Perhaps we could be friends now?" she asked, her eyes glinting with the promise of a challenge.

"Yes, Hermione. I think that would be a good plan," he said softly, smiling at her again.

And for the first time in his life, he found himself sad to be walking away from Hermione Granger.


	9. A Secret Kiss

**Dare: **Write Fremione

"Dammit! PEEVES!" Hermione yelled as she felt the tapestry give way beneath her as she ducked under Peeves' arsenal of water balloons. She tumbled into a passageway and onto a warm body sitting on the floor.

"Oh! Sorry, I-" she stammered, trying to get out of the person's lap, but the person had already snaked his arms around her waist and was cheekily grinning at her.

She groaned as she recognized it to be Fred Weasley. A Weasley twin was just as bad as Peeves.

"Fred, let go of me," she said, attempting to get up again.

"Not until you pay the toll, Granger!" Fred said insolently. "It costs a pretty penny to sit on the great Fred Weasley's lap, you know. Many girls would be dying to be in your place right now," he joked lightly.

"Well, then why don't you let me get up, and I'll graciously make way for someone who actually appreciates you?" Hermione said sarcastically.

Fred released her, stung by her comment. "Really, Hermione? Think that little of me?" He stood woodenly and pushed the tapestry aside. "You're welcome, by the way, for catching you," he said, then bowed mockingly. "After you, _m'lady."_

Hermione was shocked at the sudden change in his character, her mind whirring with all of the things she could have said to offend him.

_He's been rejected before, so it couldn't have been that..._

_But he's never actually _liked _any of those other girls, _her mind reasoned.

Stopping in front of him, Hermione looked at him shrewdly. "Fred, what was the toll?"

He blushed. "Well, I was going to make you kiss me... just to see you squirm," he added hastily, which only proved her theory that he actually liked her.

She smiled slowly. "Well, I _was_ rather rude, and I _did _land quite ungraciously on your lap, so..." she trailed off, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hand on his cheek. Their eyes met for only a moment before Fred pulled her closer and Hermione was lost in the tantalizing sweetness of his kisses.


	10. You're Better Than Quidditch

**Dare: **Write your OTP proposing. My OTP is kallie, so...here goes!

* * *

"PUDDLEMERE WINS!" The announcer yelled as the game ended, the Puddlemere seeker flying a victory lap around the field. Oliver flew down to the ground, laughing as he and the Chasers and the Beaters all moshed around their Seeker. They had been playing against the Holyhead Harpies, who were a very good team, so the win was extra sweet.

"Good game, Wood!" Gwenog Jones called from where her team was gathering. Oliver could see his girlfriend, Katie, amongst their midst, and he grinned at her. Her face showed her emotions so clearly; she was sad her team had lost, but she was happy for Oliver. He extracted himself from his team and went over to her, feeling the weight of his decision in his pocket and knowing in his heart it was the right one.

"Katie! Good game!" he said, hugging her. She smiled.

"It was a good game, Ollie. You played well. I only got two goals past you. You're improving," she teased, then gasped as he leaned down and picked her up, swinging her around and kissing her.

"Ollie! What's gotten into you! You never show this much emotion, not even for Quidditch!" she said, laughing as she gripped the front of his robes tightly to keep from falling.

"But you're better than Quidditch, and I'm happy!" he said, grinning. She stopped, staring at him.

"Oliver Wood, did you just say I was _better than Quidditch?"_ Katie gasped.

He set her down, looking at her seriously. "You _are _better than Quidditch. Quidditch games are lost and won, and sure it sucks to lose a game, but I would rather lose a hundred of them than lose you. And if the war taught me anything, it taught me that I need to say things before it's too late. So I wanted to ask you a question. I... I-"

He gulped.

"What is it, Ollie?" she asked gently, grinning.

"I- oh, screw it. Katie, marry me, please?" he asked, his brown eyes filled with nervous excitement as dropped to one knee and pulled out the ring.

She gasped, and several reporters standing by gasped as well.

"Oh, Ollie, yes! Yes, of course, yes I'll marry you!" she cried, leaping into his arms and crying with happiness. He grinned, kissing her, as reporters crowded around the two Quidditch players, lightbulbs flashing and matching the stars he could see behind his eyelids, heralding a new day, filled with Katie.


	11. A New House

**Dare: **Write about the new House being created (The previous truth was what house would you create and what would it be like, so it was a House for people who were non-conventionally brave, creative, not willing to fail, strong, with a good memory, loud and fun. I think I sort of managed to convey that. Some of it is in the description of Charmaine Harper, which you know would be sort of the basis of the House (As she is the Founder it's based on) Totally AU.

**WC: 1,095 (**haha bit of a long drabble oops)

**Elemental Song Challenge: **FIRE: Caught like a wildfire out of control, until there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove. -Bob Seger, "Against the Wind"

**Divergent Competition: **Dauntless: "There is a fine line between bravery and idiocy."

**Collect a Collection Competition/Challenge:** Trio Era (Comp) (Harry Potter), Words (Comp) (Remember), Gryffindor (Chal) (Harry Potter), Dumbledore's Army (Chal) (Harry Potter)

**The Subjects Challenge: **History of Magic: Write a story set in Founders era. (Ok it's a flashback but it's technically flashing to the Founder Era so...)

**Shakespeare Challenge: **Hamlet: a moral struggle

**Fiddler Song Challenge: **The Dream: Write about a hard decision.

**Fiddler Character Challenge: **Rabbi: write about a revered figure within one's community.

**Disney Character Challenge:** Jimimy Cricket: Write about someone dealing with a moral decision.

* * *

As Harry Potter finished his conversation with the portrait of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Sorting Hat figured now would be his chance. He had held silent for too long, and the war would be bringing new changes; what was one more?

"Mr. Potter," he grumbled, and the boy jumped, turning towards the Hat with surprise.

"Oh, um, Mr... Hat."

"I've a request for you. For too long we've ignored the fifth founder of Hogwarts; I want to change that."

Harry blinked in shock. "There was a fifth founder?" The Hat heard Dumbledore chuckle at the boy's surprise.

"I had a feeling you would be bringing this up, Godric," the portrait said conversationally.

Now Harry looked between both inanimate objects, looking as if a pin could have knocked him over, he was so surprised.

"The Sorting Hat is _Gryffindor__?" _Harry exclaimed.

Godric the Hat coughed. "Well, yes, in a way. I'm actually a Horcrux. Don't stab me with my own sword, please," the Hat said quickly as Harry stumbled back in shock, "for Horcruxes are very misunderstood pieces of magic. I wasn't created through murder. Well, not really."

Interested, Harry sat in the chair before the Headmaster's desk. "Well then, how _were _you created?"

And as I told him, my thoughts sank back to that day...

* * *

_"Godric! Stop!" Charmaine was laughing as I splashed her with water from the lake. Her gown was soaked, and it clung to her beautiful frame like it was made to fit._

_If Rowena had come outside, she would've scolded us harshly and put us to work._

_But there wasn't much to do. School wouldn't be starting for another month, and the castle was nearly ready. We had finished building, fitted the bedrooms with four poster beds and tapestries and curtains that were magicked to keep from being destroyed (I had argued vehemently on placing matching crimson ones in the Gryffindor tower, but Rowena had argued that it looked better and that everything needed to "match". __She'd probably charmed them to keep me from tearing the ugly things apart.) The Great Hall was ready for it's first occupants, and for the moment, I was enjoying the beautiful summer day with my betrothed, Charmaine Harper._

_Charmaine tapped my cheek, knocking my thoughts from my head. "And where was your mind disappearing to for so long, love? No where I wouldn't approve of, I hope?" I grinned. She knew of my bachelor ways and teased me at every opportunity._

_"I was just thinking how much Rowena would scold if she caught us out here," I whispered, bringing my arms around her. She leaned into me, and I kissed the top of her head, smiling at her sweet scent. She smelled like sunshine and flowers and rain. It was beautiful._

_Suddenly, she broke free of me, grabbing my hand. "Speak of the devil, Row is headed down her right now. Run or face her?" she asked me, cocking her eyebrow._

_I thought for a moment. A Gryffindor would never run from a problem, but..._

_"We won't run. We'll just decide right now to go for a nice stroll in the woods," I said, quickly pulling her along the pathway and out of sight of my strict friend._

_She laughed as she walked alongside me, gripping my hand tightly as we picked over roots and vines._

_And for the moment, everything was perfect. Then she had to bring it up._

_"Godric, are you really going to do it? The Sorting Hat?"_

_"I...I'm not sure. Maybe. If I could do it without hurting anyone. But the spell requires a death. I don't think I'm a killer."_

_"I want you to do it. And I want you to use me."_

* * *

Harry sat in silent shock as the Sorting Hat paused. If it had tear ducts, he believed it would've been crying by now.

"What... what happened next?" he whispered.

"She told me she was sick. There was a spell, one that could show disease in the body, and I performed it on her. She was sick all over. Dumbledore tells me it was probably a cancer of some sort. She was in pain, and as she fell severely ill the next week, I did it to put her out of her misery. But the thing is, when you make a horcrux, there are two ways. If the death is forced, your soul is ripped apart. But if the life is sacrificed by one who loves you, the part of your soul that belongs to them is taken away and placed in the object. That is what resides in this hat. The part of my soul that loved Charmaine."

Harry nodded. "So, because the part of you that loved her is in the hat, what about the rest of you? Did you remember her?"

"Not really. This piece told the rest about it, but my real body never truly recalled the memories the same way. It never felt the love like I did-do. But my body never married, so there must have been enough of a memory left to be unable to fall in love again. But my point is, I'd like to make a fifth house. One for her. Called the Harpers. It will be one for those who are the other side of each house: the brave who are not physically strong or brave, but can stand before a crowd and speak there mind or sing, as she always did. It will be for those who are kind, but in a gentle but firm way, those who do not necessarily give you what you want but what you need. Those who are intelligent, but not by books but people, who can tell what someone is thinking from the ways they act or speak shall belong in that house. And those who are cunning, but in a shrewd way, not an advantageous way, such as the ones who understand business, will also belong here. The fifth Hogwarts house for the fifth Founder of Hogwarts."

Harry nodded slowly, mulling the idea over in his head. "I like that idea. And now would be the time for change, right?" He turned to the Headmaster's portrait. "What do you think, Professor?"

"I think that is a wonderful idea. A House that unifies the others." He smiled widely beneath the half-moon spectacles.

"Good. Mr. Gryffindor, I would suggest you begin to write a new song."


End file.
